


The Scorpion and the Frog

by jellybeanforest



Series: Creature Comforts: A Stony Anthology [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Betrayal, Bloodplay, Breakup, Canon Alternate Universe - Undead, Cap-IronMan Reverse Big Bang, Capwolf, Dubious Consent, Earth-666, Evil Avengers, Interspecies Conflict, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Open Ending, Rough Sex, Undead Avengers, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Tony Stark, Werewolf Steve Rogers, enemies who are lovers, everyone is a dick, safe words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellybeanforest/pseuds/jellybeanforest
Summary: In an alternate reality where everyone is a member of the undead or otherwise supernatural, the greatest heroes from different factions (Shapeshifters, Arachnoids, Mummies, Zombies, Spirits, etc) join forces to form the Avengers of the Undead led by werewolf Steve Rogers. Together, they hunt down both internal and external threats to their world and aim to spread undeath to the multiverse at the behest of their god, the Undead Celestial.However, one faction, the vampires lead by Tony Stark, opposes their cause. Suffering from the extinction of humanity, they are forced to feed off more dangerous prey (werewolves and other warm-blooded shapeshifters), in violation of various treaties between different undead subspecies. Now hunted by were-kind and their allies, the vampires do not wish to spread undeath and promote the starvation of their kind in other realities where the living and the undead coexist.Really, the war between the vampires and the undead would be much less complicated if their respective leaders hadn’t developed a dangerous attraction for each other.For the 2020 Cap-IronMan Reverse Big Bang (Team Zombie). Title comes from a fable of the same name.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Creature Comforts: A Stony Anthology [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041672
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2020





	The Scorpion and the Frog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jayjayverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayjayverse/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Devil's Backbone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115411) by [jayjayverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayjayverse/pseuds/jayjayverse). 



> In the comics, there is a canon universe (Earth-666) where everyone is a member of the undead. Captain America is a werewolf; Thor is a mummy; Hawkeye is some sort of were-hawk; and Black Widow and Spider-Man are arachnoids, among others. Tony isn’t shown in this universe, but in the accompanying art, he is a vampire.

The fury, sharp and blistering, sparks deep within Steve’s belly, growing into a roaring flame he cannot ignore. It spits and sputters white-hot, hissing in his ears, drowning out whatever Reed Richards is trying to say. Words like _set-back_ and _beyond repair_ dance on the edge of his consciousness, but Steve pays no heed.

They had been close.

 _It’s nearly complete,_ Reed had told the other assembled Avengers, his cybernetic eye fixed on the interdimensional bridge he had been building for years. _Soon, we will be able to reach other realities to liberate them from the curse of the living, as the Undead Celestial commands._

But that was before the vampires lead by Tony Stark had attacked, exploiting key vulnerabilities and dismantling all Reed’s hard work in mere minutes.

They had been _so damn close,_ and now all their work – the fruits of nearly a decade of research and construction – lay decimated and crushed under a collapsed building, not to mention whatever chance the vampires may have had of joining their cause, uniting the undead towards a common goal.

 _To hell with you, Stark,_ Steve thinks. It had taken months of negotiating, of reasoning with the others to offer even the slimmest of olive branches to the rogue vampires, but Steve had used his considerable clout – had practically vouched for the asshole himself – to convince the Council to offer the only undead sect yet to join their alliance full pardons for their prior terrorism, representation in the Council of the Undead, and access to specialized blood banks to feed their people. It would have been an unprecedented feat: world peace in their time.

All Stark had to do was sign.

And now? Now, the vampires will never be accepted into the fold.

“Disappointing, but we can rebuild,” Reed drones on, slightly miffed but seemingly unruffled by the events, at least to the untrained ear.

Steve knows he must be unrelentingly angry as it’s the greatest show of emotion he has ever witnessed from the cybernetic zombie.

“They shall not get away with this!” Thor roars, slamming Rinlojm onto the ground. He sneers, baring his ancient yellowed teeth. “Stark is dead.”

Clint slots his remaining wooden arrows into his quiver. “Maybe you should exchange your hammer for something that can actually put him down.”

* * *

After the debrief with their cycloptic leader Nick Fury, Steve makes his excuses, dons a dark coat drawn up around his ears, and escapes into the night. He needs to cool off, to get his head on straight and start fresh in the morning, or so he tells the others.

Steve resolutely sets out along criss-crossing roads, cutting through many different alleys and establishments, doubling back down different venues to lose any potential tails, not that anyone would suspect him of this, his secret thrill and shame.

He ends up at a decrepit hotel on the mean side of the city, knocking on room 377 on the third floor, the next number in the sequence they had designated for such meetings.

The door is unlocked, a fact Steve learns when he tries the knob. The hinges squeal as he pushes it open and steps inside the threshold, surveying the dark, empty room. There’s a bed, peeling wallpaper, and what looks like a single incandescent light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He reaches over to flip the switch just as the door slams shut behind him, and he is immediately accosted by a figure that had been hiding in the blind-spot behind it.

They topple forward onto the bed. Steve reaches behind, flipping the armored man over his back on top of the too-springy mattress, making the surface creak and complain, but the man rolls over the edge of the bed landing on his feet. He then launches into Steve who grabs on and rolls them over so he is on top, his teeth bared and hairs raised and bristly.

Tony smiles. “Hey Puppy.”

“You need to stop doing that,” Steve growls, hovering over the vampire. He drops down closer to Tony’s face, his breath ghosting over the other’s lips. “One of these days, I’ll assume you are a hostile sneaking up on me and take a bite out of you.”

“Now wouldn’t that be quite the trophy.” Tony lifts a brow, his affect flat. “You’d be able to bring back the Leader of the Vampire Resistance’s head on a pike. Do you think you’d get a medal for that, maybe a pay bump even, or–”

Steve gets up abruptly, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Tony, his palms gripping his thighs and elbows jutting outward. “Don’t joke about that, Tony. Not after the stunt you pulled today,” he grumbles sourly. He refuses to so much as face the prone vampire as he declares, “I should bring you in.”

Tony casually folds his arms behind his head. “Yet you hesitate. I wonder why that is.”

“You damn well know why!” Steve spits out. Frowning, he turns to regard Tony, angered by his blasé attitude. “It’s just… I had it all squared away with the others. The vampires would have been accepted; they would have a legitimate place in this world, a higher purpose. You could have joined the rest of us in the great cause, in our Manifest Destiny–”

“Really?” And now it’s Tony who looks incredulous. “Don’t tell me you believe that line.”

“And you don’t?” he sounds almost defeated. “Regardless of what you believe, a truce would have meant that we could– that we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore, you and me. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Tony sits up, giving Steve his full attention, all pretense fallen away. “I do, Steve. It’s a wonderful dream. But do you really believe the prejudice will evaporate” – he snaps his fingers – “just like that? Overnight? That we wouldn’t be treated with fear and suspicion? Our survival is dependent on feeding on people like you, or do you forget that? Do you think we’d really be treated like equals?”

_Fair point, but–_

“It would have been a start.”

“And what of the vampires in other realities, huh? We had to fight fang and claw to get where we are, to where the Council would even consider offering us full membership. If you manage to spread undeath to the multiverse…” Tony crosses his arms. “The vampires existed just fine before with humanity intact, with plenty of prey to feast upon. I am not going to contribute to my people’s persecution and starvation in any reality. You have this world; let the living have the rest.”

Steve sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “You know I can’t do that.”

Tony hums, fluidly throwing one leg on the other side of Steve’s body to straddle him. He runs his fingers through Steve’s hair in soothing circles, coaxing the werewolf to look up at him as his palms settle on Tony’s waist. Tony smiles, just as the fingers in Steve’s hair goes taut and rough and the other hand splays violently under his chin, forcing Steve’s head in an upward tilt.

Steve hisses at the sudden pain, his fangs out and threatening and claws extending to draw long scratches in Tony’s armor.

“Don’t worry, Puppy; I’ll make you howl,” Tony promises. He pushes Steve down onto the bed, running his hands under Steve’s shirt, over his sensitive nipples.

“Take off the suit,” Steve commands, catching a claw in the slim groove between two plates on his back leading down towards his ass.

“Make me.”

Steve tears off the plate at his hip, tossing it over the side of the bed. “If you make me take you apart, I will. Piece by piece.”

“Is that a promise, Puppy?”

Another plate goes by the wayside, this one curled up sharp and twisted at the edge.

“That’s going to be difficult to buff out,” Tony complains, even as he places a knee between Steve’s legs, pressing against his growing erection.

Steve pulls off his shirt, working on his pants next. “Off. Now.”

So Tony deactivates his suit, peeling it back like a carapace and reassembling as an empty shell to stand watch in the corner while Tony lingers over Steve’s nude form, wearing nothing but a skin-tight black undersuit. “Better?”

“Much.”

The bed groans, its legs collapsing in on itself, making the mattress drop the last six inches to the floor. Tony lands hard atop Steve, who complains with an audible huff.

Tony laughs.

“It’s not that funny,” Steve grumbles, but his annoyance is starting to melt away, and his hands on Tony’s hips soften. “If only you had signed–”

“Don’t ruin this for me,” Tony snaps, pressing his lips to Steve’s in a deep kiss. They break apart, with Tony nibbling on Steve’s bottom lip but careful not to bite, as per the boundaries they had set long ago for these encounters.

 _No public marks,_ Steve had said. _I mean it, Stark._

Tony had simply nodded his agreement. _Heard you the first time, Puppy._

Presently, his cool fingers tease Steve’s nipples as Steve peels Tony’s undersuit off. But when Tony dips down to bite his chest, the fangs sinking into Steve’s flesh send a thrill of euphoria sparking up the werewolf’s spine. Steve growls, shredding the rest of Tony’s undersuit and clawing shallow ribbons in his lower back then down along the outside of his thighs. Dark blood drips down, smearing across their skin and over Tony’s ruined undersuit.

Tony pays no heed, the serum in Steve’s blood ensuring no permanent damage to either of them, as long as Tony doesn’t take too much. It’s a twisted trust fall of sorts with Steve allowing the vampire to partake, relying only on the man’s word that he won’t drain him dry. Steve’s eyes drift closed and his head becomes blissfully fuzzy. It feels as if his body is floating.

It reminds him of the very first time.

Tony had been a young upstart then, incredibly intelligent and industrious but desperate to prove his worth to the Vampire Resistance all the same. Back when Tony was strong and plucky with all the foolishness and confidence of youth, he had tried to take down the Avengers’ leader.

Solo.

Steve ribs him about it constantly now but back then–

Tony had stalked Captain America, waited for him to be alone, then attacked. Unfortunately for Tony, Steve had been ready for him. He had flipped over his assailant, following after to continue the counterattack. He may not have started this brawl, but he had aimed to finish it. Of course, the suit had protected Tony from his blows, from the broken chair leg Steve had attempted to drive through the power source over his heart, but Steve, enhanced as he was, was stronger and more adept at combat than Tony had anticipated. They tussled across the floor, reverting to old-fashioned wrestling as Steve adjusted to avoid the repulsors in Tony’s palms and Tony took out chunks of Steve’s chainmail armor. It ended shortly after with Tony pinned underneath him and Steve reaching for his shield in a bid to decapitate the vampire. Tony had seen his shot and taken it, plunging his teeth into the soft meet of Steve’s shoulder where the chainmail had been damaged.

…No one had ever told Steve it could feel this good.

“Tony…” he whispers in the present, his eyes drooping. “Oh hell… Tony, Tony… Hngh.”

Tony had told him his blood tasted sweet, made him feel more powerful than that of any other shifter. Steve could trust him, he had said, because Tony never wanted to lose this – lose him – to anyone, including his own thirst.

“I know, Puppy. I know,” Tony murmurs against his chest, licking up the remains of his meal. He drops a hand over Steve’s erection, still firm despite the blood loss. “I know what you need.” He gives him a lazy stroke and kisses him again, wet and coppery. “What are you waiting for?”

Steve’s grip on Tony’s hips tightens as he abruptly shifts, toppling Tony over to spill him onto the bed. He looms over him, his dick sliding along the crease of Tony’s ass. “Lube.” It’s more a command than a question.

“Nightst–”

Steve is already rifling through the single drawer, pulling out a tube to squirt and spread over his dick before burying it into the blood-warmed body below him. Tony hisses, tries to scoot away from the sudden intrusion, but Steve holds him steady using the bulk of his body, roughly thrusting into his ass, growling whenever Tony attempts to escape, to smooth out their coupling to a gentler pace.

The anger is still there, lurking in the back of Steve’s mind, fueling a base desire to hurt the vampire below him, the source of all his troubles.

_If only Tony had–_

“Steve–” Tony gasps as he struggles against werewolf’s superior strength, “Steve, please. Yel–”

“Shut up!” Steve snaps, but he slows all the same. It’s not fair, he knows. He can’t use this to punish Tony, no matter how upset and frustrated he is with recent events. He shouldn’t–

Tony rears up and bites into him, harder this time, over the space just below his collar bone. Steve lets out a bark of surprise and grasps Tony by the neck, pushing him down and off. Tony fails to retract his fangs quickly enough, tearing through Steve’s flesh and dripping red onto his face. Tony’s eyes are dilated to near black, and his tongue darts out over his lips, collecting the blood there.

“You really want to go down that route with me, Puppy?” he states, his voice flat and even, before clenching down blissfully tight on Steve.

Steve shutters, biting off the mewl threatening to escape from the back of his throat.

“We can fight, or we can fuck. Your choice.”

There is no third option where Steve can have both.

So Steve rolls his hips into Tony, his pace slower than it had been, picking up more gradually to allow Tony time to adjust.

Tony moans, falling back onto the bed. “Good boy.”

* * *

When it’s over and both are spent, Steve showers, washing off their comingled blood, sweat, and cum from his skin. He massages the ache in his muscles, being careful of the places where Tony had bitten him across his chest, down his stomach, and once on his inner thigh. They’re healing, the skin tight and pink, but they won’t scar, he knows from experience, though it wouldn’t be for lack of trying on Tony’s part.

It’s times like this, in the cold flickering light of a rundown bathroom and with a certain post-orgasm clarity, that Steve wonders whether Tony is doing this for the wrong reasons (as if there are any right ones). He knows why he does it – the sex is amazing – and he’s sure that’s part of why Tony agrees to this arrangement as well, but Steve isn’t stupid. He’s aware he is a steady meal in a time where warm blood is in short supply, but more than that, his blood empowers Tony, makes him stronger, faster, more invulnerable to whatever coup d’etat any one of his lieutenants may be plotting behind the scenes. Perhaps their entire fling is all a calculated concession on his part, a play for survival in uncertain times.

Which is why Steve can’t allow this to be anything more than it is. After all, expectation breeds disappointment and resentment.

He steps out of the shower, toweling off to pull on his pants, leaving them unfastened as he exits the bathroom.

“Shower’s free,” he offers as he picks up his shirt from off the floor. He has to leave soon if he is to get back to the compound at a reasonable hour.

“Any hot water left?” Tony drawls, sitting up to fix his hair.

“Of course.” It’s a hotel; he couldn’t have been in there longer than five minutes, and: “Do vampires even care about hot water?” The only time Tony has ever been warm to the touch is when he’s freshly fed.

“Not really, but I was curious how considerate you’d be,” he yawns. “You always seemed like the considerate type.”

Steve grunts, pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for his coat. “Same time four days from now? We can do that place off Hamilton. Motor Inn?”

“The place that smells like cigarettes and walking across the carpet turns your feet black?”

Like that’s any worse than present circumstances. “There’s a couple wiseguys always in the parking lot, but everyone keeps their head down, minds their own business,” Steve points out.

“Yeah sure. You really know how to spoil a gal, don’t you?”

He doesn’t even dignify that with a response, popping up the collar of his coat to conceal his lower face once again.

“Hey,” Tony says, softly now, his tone suspiciously neutral. “Why don’t you stay for a spell?”

_That’s new._

Steve is unable to hide his surprise. “…You want me to stay?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tony scoffs. “I’m only suggesting – for practical reasons, mind you – that some of my bites were a bit deeper than usual, and I wouldn’t want you to soak through your clothes and reveal where you’ve been. You really think the Avengers would be so forgiving of your… indiscretions? So stay a bit until you’re healed up.” He flips open the covers, inviting Steve inside. “Undress if you’re worried about the blood. You can even take a second shower after.” He pats the mattress. “I hear there’s still hot water.”

Steve looks at the empty space of the bed then back up at Tony, seeing the flicker of hope in his eyes. “Okay, but just for a couple hours, alright?” He undresses. “Until my wounds are healed.”

Both ignore how Steve isn’t bleeding.

“Mm hm,” Tony hums in agreement.

Steve slips in next to him, and Tony snuggles close ‘ _for warmth_ ’ or so he claims. Steve doesn’t call him out on the lie; he only holds him tight, reaching over to turn off the lights.

* * *

Steve is late coming home after his liaison with Tony, leaving before morning light so the vampire can squirrel away someplace dark and secure, someplace safe.

He heads towards his quarters in the Avengers compound, his boots nearly soundless across the cobblestone halls. The hairs rise along the ridge of his neck and along the backs of his arms. He spins around, looking this way and that. A growl rumbles low in his chest as he zeros in on an upper corner that appears much too dark even in the low light.

“Come out,” he barks.

The high-gloss shine of black legs unfold in a smooth motion as Natalia crawls down the ceiling, landing gracefully on six legs before the four thinner ones disappear behind her.

She must have revealed her presence on purpose. The Black Widow is better than that.

“Good Morning, Steve,” she greets him. “Late night?”

“Told you. Had to clear my head,” he replies, his tone gruff. “I should be getting to bed. I’m beat.”

“Hm.” She doesn’t move from his path, instead remarking, “There’s a tale from my old country; perhaps you are familiar with it.”

Steve ruffles his fingers through his hair, wary of being caught out so late and anxious to return to his room. “We’re telling each other bedtime stories now?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she draws closer, and Steve has the distinct feeling she’s luring him into her web, unseen silk threads wrapped around him in the moments before pulling taut. “This story is about a frog and a scorpion. Have you heard it?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Then humor me for a minute,” she says, taking another half-step out of the shadows, before stopping altogether. She keeps the four extraneous spider legs folded up behind her, making her appear smaller than she is, less dangerous than she can be. “Once upon a time there was a scorpion. The scorpion, being unable to swim, asks a frog to help it cross the river by allowing it to ride upon his back. The frog fears being stung, but the scorpion points out that if it stings the frog, the frog will die, and the scorpion will drown as well.”

“Sounds logical, if the frog was inclined to help out the scorpion.”

“The frog thought so, too. The favor wouldn’t cost him much at all, and he would gain a powerful ally in the process. It was a risk, sure, but a calculated one at that. Of course, the scorpion wouldn’t kill him at the expense of its own life,” Natalia stares at Steve with all eight of her red, unblinking eyes. “Or so the frog thought.”

Steve doesn’t like where this was going. The phantom bite marks across his chest – long healed over by now – itch and ache.

“And so he ferries the scorpion across,” she continues, “but halfway through, the scorpion stings him, ensuring both will die. With his last breath, the frog asks why the scorpion attacked him knowing its survival depended on him, and the scorpion replies, ‘I couldn’t help it. It’s in my nature.’”

Steve bristles, baring his teeth. “Are you trying to tell me something?” There is little room for misinterpretation as to her meaning, and yet he challenges her head-on, daring her to say it aloud, to openly denounce him or back down and live to fight another day.

Nat stands her ground. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying,” she says, her tone low.

“If you could be direct, I think it would be to both our benefits. Just so there isn’t any doubt as to what exactly you are accusing me of.”

 _Bestiality. Consorting with the enemy. Espionage,_ he thinks, his claws extending. _Treason maybe._

_…Falling in love._

Each charge worse than the one before.

But she only tilts her head to the side, Steve’s image magnified and reflected back in her glassy eyes. Her chelicerae click together in thought, weighing the benefits of speaking plainly against that of maintaining plausible deniability. “Hm… I’ve always liked you, Steve; you know that? You’re reliable, competent, always do what you think is right.” She crosses her arms to lean back against the wall in deceptively-relaxed repose, her four thin legs coming out to brace her with two on either side, ready to pounce if need be. “But your blind spots will get you killed someday.”

“That a threat, Natalia?”

“Not a threat – not from me anyway – but consider it a… friendly warning, I suppose.” She looks at her own claws, carefully neutral in her composure, almost nonthreatening. “I know you _like_ him, but a were-creature cannot trust a vampire. For reasons I don’t think I need to clarify. You’re smart enough to know better.”

Steve stands down, wary of his colleague and one-time friend. “Whatever you think you know–”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she hisses, cutting through Steve’s bullshit.

He pauses, recalibrates. “…Are you planning on ratting me out to Fury? To the Avengers?” Steve never thought Natalia would be the one to betray him, but then again, how well does he really know the arachnoid?

“No, of course not. I only wish to _remind_ you that a vampire is a predator and not even an honest one at that. When I ensnare something in my web, it’s by stealth, by skill. But a vampire? He is a liar; it is in his very nature to emotionally manipulate his prey, to seduce and deceive in order to get what he wants, what he needs. You think you are giving in of your own free will because that is what he wants you to think.” She combs back her long dark red hair with one of her extra legs, the claw-like appendage returning to her side. It’s unbound, uncharacteristically loose and much too long, not conducive to an outright fight with anyone, much less the leader of the Avengers. “To be honest, I was surprised when I learned of your… indiscretions. I never took you for a soft touch – or perhaps the adrenaline rush is what gets you going – but who am I to judge? I am not going to say anything to the others, but you need to put your house in order, Steve, before it’s too late.”

So, Nat’s no snitch, but “Anyone else know?”

She shrugs, her grey-furred fingers tapping away against her the inside of her elbow. “A few suspect _something_ – Frank thinks you’re part of an underground fight club; Clint thinks you might have a thing going on with a married woman – but nothing close to the truth or concrete. Nothing to jeopardize your position anyway,” – a pause – “For now.”

If Steve isn’t careful, that is.

“What I do on my free time is no one’s business but my own. It will not affect the primary directive. I won’t allow it.”

“I think it already has,” she counters. “Tell me, Steve. Would you allow us to capture your lover, to expose him to the light of day or pierce him with Clint’s wooden arrows?”

He imagines Tony burning, crumbling to dust while Steve looks on, helpless to stop it. Would Tony spare a glance in his direction? And what expression would greet him in those last moments, the very last memory Steve will ever have of Tony’s face? Anger? Betrayal? Surprise?

Regret?

“…The vampires are not our primary concern,” Steve replies after a beat, avoiding the question altogether. “Reed must perfect his portal into the multiverse so that we may reach other realities, spread the many blessings of undeath just as the Undead Celestial requires of us. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“The vampires are a direct threat to that directive; you and I both know that. Stark will never let you, and he will do what is necessary to stop us. Do you have the conviction to do the same?”

“Yes,” he states with no hesitation and more confidence than he feels.

Nat looks doubtful but doesn’t call him out on the half-truth.

“See to it that you do.”

And with that, she withdraws back into the shadows, skittering up the wall into a high corner, her eyes glaring out at him like rubies. She’s watching him still, Steve realizes, the dread settling in his gut. And she might not be the only one. He has to be more discrete from here on out, for both his and Tony’s sakes.

* * *

Steve is on high alert the next few days. He can’t contact Tony or risk being followed to their next scheduled tryst at the Motor Inn and so ends up missing it entirely. He wonders when he will get a chance to see Tony again and worries whether the vampire will go hungry. Vampires only have to feed once a week, so Tony isn’t exactly in danger of starving… not yet at least.

But when four days become seven becomes ten, Steve’s concern multiples. _Tony is smart and resourceful,_ he reasons. There are underground blood banks he can patronize in a pinch. He survived before Steve, and he’ll survive now.

“Suit up, Avengers,” Fury tells them, having called them into the main conference room of the compound. “We have it on good authority that the vampires are holed up in a condemned building down by the Wharf.”

“You sure about that?” Frank grinds out. “I thought vampires hate water.”

“You’re thinking of witches.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s demons,” Murdock adds, huffing out a curl of smoke.

Fury looks unimpressed. “Wheels up in five.”

* * *

Steve is apprehensive as they approach the den, quietly taking out vampires guarding the central hive. If Tony is in there… can he do it? This is Tony. The vampire he held, the one he trusted with his secrets and (at times) his life. He recalls when Tony had been young and angry and full of potential and how he had grown in confidence and competence since then.

And now he’s standing outside the main doors while his team guards various exits to a large warehouse-like space, ready to break in and wipe out everyone inside. No survivors.

“On your orders, Cap,” Nat whispers quietly into the comms.

Tony lies naked on a bed in a seedy motel – _Fancy meeting you here, Puppy_ – as if their reunion had been happenstance.

“Cap,” she prompts him again.

Can Steve actually do this to the man he–

“Go.”

Steve bursts in through the main doors to find Tony–

Momentarily, Steve forgets himself, forgets his team and the mission entirely, because Tony is locked in a tight embrace with another werewolf, tall and blond and muscular, his lips locked on the man’s neck. He looks up at the interruption, a dribble of blood flowing down from the other man’s neck, and locks eyes with Steve. Steve doesn’t have a name for the expression alighting Tony’s face. There’s definitely surprise mixed with anguish and perhaps even a touch of fear.

Good, he should be afraid.

Steve snarls, feeling his teeth grow and his hair bristle out in mid transformation. He throws his shield at the central duo with more force than he had meant. Tony pushes his paramour to one side and throws himself in the opposite direction as the shield lodges into the crates behind them. Now fully transformed, Steve leaps into the fray, knocking out the other werewolf with a punch – _collateral damage, wrong place, wrong time,_ he tells himself – before going after his former(?) lover.

Natalia and Parker are spinning up vampires in tight cocoons while Clint takes them out with wooden arrows and Murdock simply burns them. Thor spins Rinlojm, aiming for Tony just before Steve stakes his claim.

“Thor, stand down!” he roars, his voice deep and gruff. “Stark’s mine.”

Rinlojm would crush Tony, and no way is Steve letting him off that easy.

Thor looks irked but redirects his hammer at other targets as ordered.

Tony calls forth his armor to encase him, using his repulsors to free his fellow vampires from spider silk restraints and engaging Frank in an old-fashioned fist fight. Steve breaks that up, trying to draw Tony’s punches himself, but Tony jets off, using Rinlojm to slingshot around with enough force to take out Parker, always keeping a couple steps ahead of Steve, as if unwilling to confront the werewolf altogether.

It only serves to fan the flames of his growing fury.

 _He is a liar,_ Natalia’s voice whispers from the depths of his memory.

She was right; Nat had always been an excellent judge of character, and now that he knows… How can Steve work through Tony’s betrayal if the man keeps _avoiding_ him? That cheating, lying bastard; Steve ought to–

_And the scorpion replies, ‘I couldn’t help it. It’s in my nature.’_

Steve stops, reconsiders his emotional response as he takes out a small cadre of vampires standing between them with several swipes of his enormous paws. Does he even have the right to be angry? It’s a vampire’s nature to be faithless and deceitful, damn near necessary for their survival in fact.

Tony is fifteen feet away now, an easy distance for his shield to cover. He uses his foot for leverage to pull his signature weapon from the crate.

Nat is distracting Tony, zipping around to try to ground him with her webs as Tony simultaneously tries to avoid Murdock’s flames. Another armored vampire – one Steve recognizes as one of his lieutenants, James Rhodes – interrupts to draw her away so Tony can deal with the demon alone.

Steve sees it then: A small window of opportunity when Tony deflects Murdock’s attack on Rhodes where he isn’t paying attention to Steve. Steve could throw his shield, hit him in the back of the neck, maybe even decapitate the vampire if he put enough force behind it. Steve could end him and with his death, deal a potentially-fatal blow to the Vampire Resistance. 

_He will do what is necessary to stop us. Do you have the conviction to do the same?_

His leg sweeps out, his entire shoulder dropping back in pre-throw.

_Yes._

Tony startles when he sees the shield fly past his head by a healthy margin. Steve had missed by a good two feet.

It didn’t change the fact that he had _thrown_ his shield at _Tony_.

With intent to kill.

His hands are sweaty and his shoulders ache as he drops to his knees. Three vampires swarm the fallen leader of the Avengers, (correctly) assuming him to be momentarily weakened. The first bite wakes him up, but unlike that very first time with Tony, it feels wrong, a violation of his bodily autonomy.

Steve pushes off the first vampire then punches him clear across the face as another sinks his teeth in, but before he can react, Tony is there, grabbing hold of the remaining two vampires and lifting off. He dumps the one that had deigned to bite Steve inside a crate, while the other who didn’t have a chance to is ferried safely to higher ground before Tony returns to battle.

Steve draws up to his feet, shakes out his muscles, and rejoins as well.

* * *

Stark had escaped with reduced forces, but he had made it out alive.

Naturally, Natalia is disappointed in Steve, but she doesn’t say anything much less snitch on him to the others. She had seen enough to know whatever bond had existed between the leader of the Avengers and that of the Vampire Resistance had been severely strained by what Steve had witnessed and was unlikely to be a factor in the future.

Steve isn’t quite as sure, until one night, he is accosted by the vampire himself while scrolling through a deserted alley.

“Hello again, Puppy,” Tony says, stepping out from behind a dumpster. He’s dressed in his civvies, and his eyes shine, reflecting the dim yellow light of the streetlamp.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, his gaze averted. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

“That why you circled through all our old haunts and walked this very alley five times tonight?”

“There’s a difference between what I hoped would happen and what I thought would actually happen,” Steve replies, surprisingly frank.

“Fair enough.”

Steve had a speech prepared. He had practiced it every day in his head while standing in front of the mirror, but now that he stands in front of the man himself–

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Tony says abruptly.

“What?” That is supposed to be Steve’s line, and to hear it from Tony’s mouth… “But… why?” he hates how plaintive the question sounds. _Pathetic._ Like a kicked dog.

 _You starved me and then got weirdly jealous when I tried to feed myself,_ he expects Tony to say. _You raised your shield against me in anger._

_You almost struck me._

**_You tried to kill me._ **

But instead, Tony states, “Three low-level vampires got the drop on you. If it had been Rhodey, sure. Pepper, okay yeah, I can see that. But _that lot_ should have never gotten in biting distance of you, and you…” – a sigh – “I think it’s better for all involved that we… not do this anymore.”

Wait.

Wait a fucking minute.

Tony thinks he’s what? Weak? Compromised?

Like hell he is.

Steve stalks closer, getting in the vampire’s face. “I can handle myself.”

Tony doesn’t back down. “Really, Steve? Because I was there, and that was not ‘handling yourself.’ A baby vampire could have taken you out. Hell, a baby vampire almost took you out.”

“Put on the suit,” Steve growls, baring his teeth. “Let’s go a few rounds.”

Tony’s face screws up, angry and ugly. He pushes Steve back, but the werewolf refuses to so much as budge an inch. And so Tony uses the only tool he has left, invoking a promise from the start of their twisted relationship. “I’m saying no, Steve. Red, alright?” he says, not quite looking at his one-time lover, and that does make Steve back up. “Red. I’m done. Tapping out. I’ve got nothing for you no more. Zero. Zip. Nada. Done.”

Steve can barely believe it. “You sure?”

“Red,” he confirms.

“…Alright, Stark. I get it.”

“I should get going,” Stark says, straightening out his clothing, trying to occupy his hands.

“Yeah, me too,” Steve agrees. There’s a beat where neither of them moves. “Take care of yourself. I won’t– I can’t hesitate next time. Not even for you.”

“I don’t expect special treatment.”

“Yeah, well…” _And really, what is there left to say?_

“And um… you have a good life, yeah?” Stark rolls heel-toe in place. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Steve nods. “Not too often, I hope.” Because after today, one of them may not walk out of their next encounter.

“I suppose so.” Stark looks up at Steve. “Goodbye, Puppy.”

And with that, he walks away. Steve listens for the echo of his footsteps receding into the night until even he can’t detect them anymore. He then heads back to the compound. Alone.

Tomorrow, he will train with the other Avengers. He will spar with Frank, and Natalia will (privately) criticize his form as sloppy and unfocused while being fully aware of the implications of his diminished capacity. She will keep his secrets. But tonight, in the quiet of his quarters, Steve curls up in his bed and remembers what he had with Tony. If he wakes in the morning with his pillow damp, then he thinks nothing of it. Because at the end of the day, all that matters is the Avengers and the mission.

Nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> If you can imagine the parallel storyline from Tony’s POV, it’s purely a fling at the beginning; Steve gets sex and Tony gets sex + superpowered blood. Win-win. But then, Tony starts to actually care about the werewolf and is uncertain whether Steve is really invested in Tony on a personal level or if he’s just an adrenaline junkie that gets off on the fact that this is all highly illegal and very, very wrong. So, Tony finally opens up a little and lets Steve in, lets him stay, and at first he thinks that things are great, maybe there is something there.
> 
> And then Steve bails on him during the next scheduled rendezvous. 
> 
> That’s cool; that’s fine, Tony thinks seconds before snapping at some subordinate for a small mistake. Because he has no idea what changed and is hurt that Steve essentially left him the second Tony implied he might actually be slightly more emotionally-invested in their fling than he initially let on. Of course, he doesn’t say it aloud, and his other vampire buddies are clueless as to why the boss is being such an asshole, more so than usual anyway. He gets hungrier and hungrier, and eventually finds a were-person to feed off of, just as Steve bursts in with the rest of the Avengers ready to kill the lot of them. And then the fucker almost dies.
> 
> Tony is a little hurt, pissed off, and very, very concerned that their relationship will threaten Steve’s actual survival.
> 
> Anyways, please be sure to check out the amazing "The Devil's Backbone" by jayjayverse and "the marks you choose to leave behind" by masterlokisev159 and give them some love.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the marks you choose to leave behind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075652) by [masterlokisev159](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterlokisev159/pseuds/masterlokisev159)




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